Dean closed his eyes and let the hot water run down his face then circle the drain. It felt so good to finally get out of the dried mud off of his skin. He then shut off the water and stepped out into the steamy bathroom. After realizing that he couldn't put his other clothes back on, Dean pick them up and walked out of the bathroom, wearing a towel the sweet old lady borrowed him, around his waist. He grabbed his shoes, which held everything else he had with him and made his way over to 's door, who answered quickly.

"Oh!" exclaimed as she looked over Dean's toned chest and stomach.

The younger man blushed and coughed awkwardly, trying to get her attention, "Ummm... I was wondering if you wouldn't mind washing these for me," Dean gestured to the clothes under his arm.

smiled gently, "Of course, dear" She giggled at Dean's awkwardness, Dean muttered a 'thank you' then booked it up the stairs. watched until he entered Sherlock's flat before returning to her own. The other men stared at Dean for a moment. John's look changed from shock to confusion as Sam started laughing, and Sherlock turned back to his work. Dean shot a glare at his brother.

"What? Not so funny when it's you?" The smartass attitude dripping from Sam's voice.

Dean sat in the couch, then reached out with his foot to kick at the back the his brother's head, who smacked it away. John, who was also on the couch, scooted farther away from the mostly naked Winchester.

"Would you like some clothes?" He asked, not looking at Dean.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, that would be cool, if it doesn't weird you out."

"Couldn't be much weirder than this," John sighed as he pushed himself off of the couch. A few minutes later he came back with a pair of black pants and a white dress shirt. Sherlock glanced over, his eyes grow wide and he opened his mouth to object, but was cut off by John before he could start, "Sherlock, my trousers would be too short for him and we can't have a naked man on our couch."

Sherlock groaned, "I'll burn them later,"

John handed Dean the clothes and showed him where the bathroom was. Dean reemerged in Sherlock's shirt and pants, "Dude, you're way too skinny."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Whatever, dude"

"If you don't mind me asking," John watched as Dean went and sat down next to him, "Why are you here? I know Mycroft sent you, but what for?"

"Well, he wants to know why you're sneaking around more, but we all know why, so Sam and I figured we oughta do something about it," Dean said, leaning forward so his elbows rested in his knees.

"Oh, of course he does," Sherlock grumbled under his breathe.

John tilted his head, "Do something like what?"

"Get you out of hunting," Sam looked over at John, "Or at least prepare you for what's in store."

"Is that a threat?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow as John shifted in his seat.

"No, not at all," Sam said, "But we want you to be ready."

"Ready? For what?" John asked.

"Hunting's not really an easy job." Dean added, "It's dangerous, people die."

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something." Sherlock said, finally tuning back into the conversation, "We found these books."

Sam and Dean groaned loudly.

"So you are aware of them."

"Are they real?" John looked astonished.

"How did you even find them?" Sam ran his fingers through his hair.

Sherlock smirked, "You're avoiding the question."

"Shut up, pude head," Dean shot back. Sherlock's brows scrunched for a moment before he rolled his eyes.

"So, they're true, the books it mean," John said as more of a confirming statement to himself than anything.

"Yeah, well, most of it at least," Sam nodded, "How much have you read?"

"Not a lot, just a few we found online," John didn't want it to seem like they had invaded the boy's privacy. Sherlock on the other hand...

"It proved my deductions about you were correct."

Dean rolled his eyes as Sam shook his head, and said in the most sarcastic tone he could muster, "Thanks, man, that's good to know."

John wanted to give them his condolences about their parents, but knew that those were old wounds that didn't need to be reopened. Besides the Winchesters wouldn't want his pity anyway. He did the next best thing he could think of, "It's gotten late, you two might as well spend the night here."

"What?" Three shocked voices rang out in unison.

"John!" Sherlock protested.

"We owe them, your brother is the one who dragged them here." John countered.

Dean looked over at Sam, who shrugged, then said, "Sure, we'll stay."

Sherlock stood up, "What?"

"Well, we figure it's the best way to keep an eye on you," Sam answered.

"I'm not a child," Sherlock spat back.

"Sherlock, they're staying the night," John said as of scolding a child.

Sherlock plopped back down on the floor, "They're not going in my room."

Dean smirked, "Don't worry, we won't touch your porn stache."

"We'll just be out on the couch," Sam ignored his brother's comments.

John sighed and took this as a deal, suddenly feeling exhausted, "I'm going to bed."

Sherlock watched as John disappeared out of the room from the corner of his eye. Great! Now thanks to those two and Mycroft, not only does he have to be more careful with his investigations, but now thanks to John trying to be nice he can't even work. Not without the Winchesters realizing what he's doing and taking over. He couldn't stand that. So, Sherlock sat there and pretended to think. It was around one a.m. when Dean finally passed out, snoring loudly. Sherlock glanced over to see Sam staring at him, with a dazed look in his eyes. It was as good of a time as any.

"Tell me about it."

Sam jumped at this, snapping to attention, "Huh?"

Sherlock was now sitting on his seat, staring at John's chair, trying not to look as Sam, "Tell me about your addiction."

"Why do you want to know?" Sam tilted his head. When he looked over, he noticed Sherlock's expression seemed colder than usual. There was a moment of silence as tension built.

"Just tell me," Sherlock snapped, finally looking over at Sam.

The Winchester could see the seriousness on the detective's face and nodded. There was so much that he could say, but what did Sherlock want to hear? What did he need to hear? "I started because it made me stronger. I had these psychic abilities and it made them so much stronger. I could do all of these amazing things. I could save so many people. I was able to kill demons with just my mind... But Dean was right, I was being used. And I didn't see it." Sam was now looking down at the floor.

Sherlock gave him a moment before asking, "What did you take?"

"Demon blood. I was drinking demon blood." He answered running a hand through his hair.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he tilted his head, "Demon blood?"

Sam let out a small, awkward laugh, "Yeah," He paused for a moment, "what about you?"

Sherlock stared off into the distance, his face making an unreadable expression. Sam knew he wouldn't get anything out of Sherlock, so he let the subject drop. Within a half an hour Sam had nodded off and Sherlock got to work.

So basically, Sherlock and John have gotten part way through season 3 with the books. I hope the drug discussion cane out nice, I'm posting and editing late again, so if something went won't I might not have noticed. I hope you enjoyed.